It's Not My Fault I'm Not Popular So I'll Join The Ouran Host Club
by kawaii-alterego
Summary: Ever since the death of Tomoki, Tomoko hasn't been herself. She transferred to one of the most precious and high class schools in Japan, Ouran Academy to get away from it all. ( I need a better summary but this will do for now)


It's Not My Fault I'm Not Popular...So I'll Crossdress?

_Flashback_

_"Are you sure Tomoko? Do you really want to go?" Tomoko's mom said with a worried look and sympathetic eyes with Tomoko's dad right next to her._

_"...yes…" whispered Tomoko as she stared at the floor with her now dead depressing eyes._

_Tomoko decided to go to Ouran Academy ever since Tomoki's death to isolate herself from the former school her brother was supposed to go to with her. She didn't want to be pitied on and be recognized because of her brother._

_Tomoko's mom looked at her husband and nodded with sadness. Tomoko's dad walked out of the room to make the preparations. Once her husband left the room, she looked down at Tomoko once again and asked, "Are you really okay? If this is about Tomo…"_

_"I'm fine! It's my choice. It has nothing to do with HIM" yelled in a cracked voice Tomoko cutting her mom off._

_Tomoko ran off upstairs stopping in front of a door with the sign 'Tomoki's Room'. She entered the room and looked around. *_

_***It's still the same as he left it***__ Tomoko sadly thought to herself._

_At the corner of her eye, she notice a picture frame on the nightstand next to the bed. She walked over to it and picked it up to see what the frame contained. It was a picture of her and Tomoki when they were younger holding hands while smiling at the camera._

_***This was during that summer when Tomoki and I collected bugs to sell them.***_

_Tomoko thought of one of the few memories left of her and Tomoki. She stared at it again with tears in her eyes mumbling in her sobs "I'm sorry" over and over again._

_"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Tomoki. This is all my fault. I'm sorry." Tomoko cried to herself._

_Tomoko laid on her brother's bed and held the picture close to her heart, remembering all the good and bad times she had with her brother. She wished he was still here or to go back a few days ago to avoid the sobbed silently to herself closing her eyes and drifting off into a deep sleep._

* * *

_The next day._

_Tomoko woke up wrapped in warm blankets in her room._

_***Huh? Dad must have put me in bed.***_

_As she got up, she looked at her alarm clock on her nightstand to see that it was 10:00 am. Also on the nightstand laided the photo frame. Tomoko stared at it for a second then looked away having her memories flood back to her of her and Tomoki. She held back the tears that were escaping and exited her room. She walked down the hallway avoiding the family pictures on the walls then stopped in front of a door. Tomoko opened the door to reveal the bathroom. once inside, she rapidly looked for something in the drawers and cabinet. I the cabinet, she found a pair of scissors and held them in her hand. She stared at them for a second and looked at herself in the mirror._

_***The person I was is dead. She died on that day. From this day on, I am no longer Tomoko. I am a new person. I will be a better person for Tomoki.***_

_Tomoko raised her scissors to her hair and started cutting it all off. Her chopped off hair gracefully fell to the ground as she continued cutting until it was just a little over the shoulder. after she was finished, she looked in the mirror with a shocked look on her face. She barely recognized herself. With her now short hair, no one could tell she was a girl…_

_***No one would know I'm a girl***_

_Tomoko thought about those words for a while until an idea came to her._

_***Since I'm no longer the Tomoko I was, I'll be the opposite. I'll be a better person than I was in the past… I'll crossdress.***_

* * *

I hoped you enjoyed my first chapter of It's Not My Fault I'm Not Popular, So I'll Join The Ouran Host Club. It's my first crossover so, please give feedback on what you think of it.


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